


XO

by etselec



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, M/M, Parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4738595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etselec/pseuds/etselec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey laughed at Pete’s inability to form complete sentences. He was pretty much a mess in Mikey’s hands. “I never knew you’d be such—”</p><p>“A bottom?” Pete finished for him, completely serious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	XO

“Need a ride?”

Mikey’s gaze tore from the worn out sidewalk. He whipped his head up. “Pete?”

Pete only nodded and leaned over the best he could to try and open the passenger door. He failed, flopping down awkwardly as the seatbelt strained across his chest.

Mikey leaped forward and opened the door, ripping his earbuds from his ears once he was inside the vehicle. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

Pete only smiled as he drove back onto the road. “You always are.”

Mikey scowled at him, tucking his earbuds into his jacket pocket. “And that’s supposed to mean…”

“You’re always _here_ , outside the library waiting for your brother to pick you up,” Pete recited, tapping his fingers against the wheel. He anxiously bit his lip, “I... thought I’d get you out of the rain.”

Mikey suddenly noticed the unusual wetness of his coat and how his hair seemed flatter than usual. He was too into his music to notice it had began to rain. His eyes darted from side to side as Pete flicked on the windshield wipers. “I didn’t even notice.”

Pete blinked. “You didn’t notice the rain?”

Mikey shook his head.

“Dude,” Pete said, rather flabbergasted, “it was _pouring_ not five minutes ago.”

Mikey shrugged as Pete’s car reached the front of his house. He picked up his bag and clicked his seatbelt off. “Thanks for the ride, Pete. I’ll see you around.”

“No problem,” Pete smiled as he watched Mikey hop out of the car and into his house. “Text me!” he blurted out. But Mikey was already inside.

Mikey, meanwhile, hung up his coat once he was inside and toed off his shoes. He met Gerard in the kitchen. “Hey.”

“Hey!” Gerard said surprised, “I was just about to leave to pick you up.”

“Pete gave me a ride,” Mikey explained, scrubbing a hand through his wet hair. Damn, it really must have been pouring. Mikey noticed Gerard bite his lip, like he was hiding a secret from him, but Mikey chose to ignore it.

“Oh,” Gerard stuck his hands in his sweatshirt pockets, “he’s the emo one, right?”

Mikey scowled, absently shifting from one foot to the other. “He’s not emo.”

Gerard snorted. “If you need me, I’ll be upstairs.”

“Alright.” Mikey watched Gerard disappear down the hallway and heard his footsteps ascending up the steps.

Gerard was going back to college in two days and Mikey wasn’t ready to be alone for the next couple of months until he came back next summer. Their parents were never home until late at night and he rarely saw them in the morning.

He only had a few friends who he sometimes hung out with but he didn’t see them too often.

Pete was… Pete was something else. Mikey had met him through his best friend, Frank, towards the end of last year.

Pete and Mikey didn’t even go to the same goddamn school.

Frank met Pete through a mutual friend and when Frank needed someone to go a party with, Mikey ended up going.

The minute Mikey had made eye contact with Pete, Pete was instantly intrigued. Frank was gone, of course, already running his hands all over a girl popping her bubblegum in Frank’s face. So Mikey was alone—alone with Pete for the whole night actually.

Pete tried to strike up conversation with him and for the first thirty minutes; Mikey gave short, quick answers at first but eventually into the night, Mikey was telling Pete stories about himself and his brother that he’d never told anyone before. He didn’t understand how he felt like he could trust this Pete Wentz when he had met him only thirty or so minutes ago.

When the party was over, Mikey almost didn’t want to leave but he did anyways, with Frank yanking drunkenly on Mikey’s sleeve before vomiting all over the lawn.

Pete seemed to be at every party Frank dragged him to and Mikey didn’t really mind.

It was that day when Pete picked him up from the library that Mikey first saw him outside of a party. They’d called and texted dozens of times but have only met in person a few times.

Mikey, meanwhile, crashed down onto his bed on his stomach and switched on his TV. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled down his contacts list and pressed on Pete’s name.

“Hello?” Mikey rolled over to the other side of the bed.

“Mikey?” Pete asked like he was surprised. “Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Mikey was confused now, “fine…? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, it’s just, uh, you’ve never called me first before,” Pete laughed.

Mikey scoffed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Pete sounded the slightest bit nervous now, “it seems like I always call you to, like, complain or something.”

Mikey rolled his eyes. It was true, though. Pete would always call Mikey and complain about this person and that person and this teacher and that teacher. And Mikey would listen to Pete talk—listen to him talk for ages until Mikey was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open and the last thing he would hear before falling asleep was Pete’s voice.

Okay.

So maybe Mikey had a tiny little crush on his friend but… it would go away, right?

“Anyways,” Pete continued, “any reason you called?”

“Yeah,” Mikey said, eyes darting from the floor to the TV, “how’d you know I was at the library tonight?”

Pete was silent on the other line for a solid minute. “Promise you won’t hate me?”

“Promise,” Mikey’s grip on his phone tightened.

“I kind of asked Frank what your daily schedule was and I somehow found myself in front of the library,” Pete explained. Mikey heard him sigh through the phone. “It’s a curiosity thing, you know? I went to the library and you were there and there was no possibility you wouldn’t see me.”

“Why’d you want to know my schedule?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to get to know you better,” Pete mumbled, “I want to be your friend, okay? I’m not creepy I swear.”

“We _are_ friends,” Mikey tried not to smile, “you don’t need to go to extremes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, dude,” Mikey was full on grinning by now, “I’ll talk to you later, Pete.” He hung up and threw his phone across the room.

—

The following Friday at school, Mikey met Frank by the front of the school. “Frank. Dude.”

Frank turned around, red eyeshadow and black eyeliner smeared all around his eyes. “What’s up, Mikeyway?” He grinned, pushing his hair back.

“Did you…” Mikey started to walk to his locker as Frank’s shoes squeaked across the tile floor to catch up, “tell Pete Wentz my after school schedule?”

Frank shrugged. “Yeah, so? Dude wanted to know.”

Mikey blew air out of his nose and tugged his binders and textbooks out of the locker. He shut it closed and blinked down at Frank. “Do you think he likes me?”

Frank furrowed his eyebrows together and folded his arms. “Of course he does. Everyone likes you.”

Mikey frowned. “That’s not what I meant, Frank, and you know it.”

Frank shuffled around in place and swung his arms back and forth, nearly bumping into a blond girl talking on her cellphone. He blurted out an apology but she rolled her eyes and continued on walking. “I… I don’t know, Mikey, why you asking?” He sounded nervous, Mikey noticed.

Mikey strung out his words carefully so he could see how Frank would react. “I think that maybe I… like him?”

Frank’s jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out of his head. “You _what_?”

Mikey blew his bangs out of his face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No, no, no, _no_ , this is _excellent_ news, I gotta go,” Frank waved his hands in Mikey’s face before skidding down the hall (all while crashing into at least five freshmen) and nearly tripping at least three times before disappearing out of Mikey’s sight.

Mikey cocked his head to the side. Why was Frank being all weird all of the sudden? Mikey almost went to go after and find him, but then the bell rang. He rushed up the stairs and to class only seconds before class began.

—

After school, Frank caught up to Mikey by practically knocking him over. “Mikeyway, you up for a party?”

Mikey sighed. “I don’t know,” he looked from side to side and stepped outside with Frank, “I kind of have a lot of homework and I was thinking of getting a headstart…”

“Pete’s gonna be there,” Frank nudged Mikey in the side, “come on dude, you have two full days to do that.”

Mikey bit his lip, staring down at the sidewalk as they walked. “Okay, okay.”

Frank clapped his hand on Mikey’s shoulder. “Awesome. I’ll pick you up at 7. It’s at Saporta’s house.”

“Gabe?” Mikey turned red and frowned, “he tried to get me into bed last time I went to his party.”

“And you almost agreed so... your point is?”

Mikey grumbled in response. “Yeah, whatever, pick me up at 7,” he said before walking down the opposite street for a 40 minute walk to his house,“see you, Frank.” When he finally walked inside his house, he spotted Gerard sitting on the kitchen counter, his legs swinging over the edge with a sketchbook in his lap and pencil between his lips.

“Hey,” Mikey tested his voice, watching Gerard clumsily open his mouth, the pencil pelting to the ground. Mikey hid a smirk with the back of his hand.

Gerard bit his lip before hopping off the counter to retrieve his pencil. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t go to the library Fridays.”

Mikey smiled. “I hope Pete knows that.”

Gerard chuckled and stared at the floor for longer than he should’ve.

“What?” Mikey asked, folding his arms, “you sound like you’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gerard set his sketchbook and pencil on the table and held his hands up in defense.

Mikey rolled his eyes and turned to walk out of the kitchen. “Ugh, liar.”

“Wait! Mikey I just…” Gerard’s eyes looked from one side of the kitchen to the other before finally looking at Mikey. He cleared his throat.

“You what?”

“I think Pete has a crush on you,” Gerard turned bright red and stared at the floor again.

Mikey couldn’t help but snort. “I figured that out.”

Gerard’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Really? Then why—” he shut his mouth and a grin spread across his lips. He giggled and covered his mouth with his hand.

_“Gee.”_

“You like him.”

Mikey turned pink.

“You _like_ him.”

“Maybe I do,” Mikey mumbled, fiddling with the fabric of his jeans.

Gerard hopped in place a little bit. “I can’t believe this.”

“At least you can’t play matchmaker,” Mikey sighed, “you’re leaving tomorrow.”

Gerard reached out to playfully punch Mikey in the shoulder. “Aw, man, you would’ve _loved_ that.”

Mikey rolled his eyes and left the Gerard alone. He walked up to his room and shoved his dirty clothes away with his foot. He sighed and flopped back down on his bed and took his phone out of his back pocket and turned it on only to have his phone flooded with messages.

There were 5 missed calls from Pete and a few messages from Frank.

Mikey scrolled down and tapped on Frank’s contact.

 **frank:** holy shit

 **frank:** holy SHIT

 **frank:** call me pls

Mikey immediately dialed Frank’s number, chewing absently on his thumbnail. He watched his digital alarm clock flick from 6:29 to 6:30 as he cleared his throat.

“Mikey, oh my God,” Frank babbled.

“What happened? You and Pete are being weird and I’m fucking confused,” Mikey snapped suddenly. He _hated_ it when people knew something that he didn’t.

Frank barked out a laugh and coughed before continuing. “Oh, man. Gabe’s a _dick_.”

“What’d Gabe do?” Mikey felt himself getting annoyed.

“Well, he...” Frank suddenly stopped.

“Frank!” Mikey yelled, his palm getting sweaty around his phone.

“You know what,” the tone of Frank’s voice did not sound good, “you’ll figure it out when we get there.”

Mikey was ready to climb through the phone and strangle him. “Frank! You said to call you.”

“I changed my mind!” Frank tried to explain.

A million different insults flew through Mikey’s brain but before he could toss one out, the line went dead. Mikey muttered a swear and threw his phone to the other side of his bed. He watched his alarm clock all until his phone finally buzzed with Frank announcing that he was here.

Mikey smoothed his hair down with a comb and jogged downstairs. He told Gerard that he was leaving and shut the front door.

Frank was in the front seat of his rusty old car blasting some ‘80s rock band.

“Frank,” Mikey stated.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Mikey opened and closed his mouth several times. “I didn’t even mention that, _bitch._ ”

Frank rolled his eyes and stepped on the gas. Before they knew it, they were at Gabe’s house.

Frank parked his car on the street and walked out onto the sidewalk with Mikey, pushing past a drunken couple making out to get inside.

Mikey wasn’t even five steps into the house when Gabe suddenly attacked from behind, pushing Mikey to the floor. “Oh boy, Mikeyway, do I have a fucking surprise for you.”

Frank chuckled to himself. “I’ll see you, Mikes.”

“What the fuck?” Mikey looked panicked as he stood himself up. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Gabe threw his arm around Mikey’s shoulders and spun him around. “Come with me.” He led Mikey down a hallway and down some stairs before they entered a room with Pete sitting on a couch uncomfortably.

“I wish you didn’t come,” Pete muttered, looking betrayed and upset. It made Mikey feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” Mikey bit his lip, “curiosity got the best of me.”

“Nah, itt’s fine,” Pete fell back into the couch cushions, “here’s where Gabe Saporta ruins my life.”

Mikey laughed. “It’s happened to me before.”

“I heard that!” Gabe called from another room. He finally ran back into the room holding a notebook. “Pete, you know what to do.” Gabe handed Pete the notebook and slinked back upstairs. Mikey could hear him laughing as he went.

“Asshole,” Pete mumbled, “come here, Mikes.”

Mikey hesitantly walked over to Pete and sat next to him, feeling a pit in his stomach—like when you’re on your first date with your first girlfriend or boyfriend and you feel like you’re gonna throw up or pass out because you’re so nervous and excited at the same time.

“So,” Pete began, “Gabe somehow found my… notebook and he said that if I didn’t show it to you—which _will_ definitely cause me embarrassment for the rest of my life—he’d tell my parents and you know how my parents are. They don’t like secrets or anything and the things in this notebook…” he let out a breath, “let’s say they’d freak out. Not in a bad way, but… they’d freak out.”

Mikey nodded, his mouth dry.

Pete thrust out the notebook. “Here.”

Mikey grabbed it and met Pete’s eyes. “I won’t make fun of you or anything. It’s good to let out your feelings or whatever.” Mikey didn’t know what could be in this notebook that would cause Pete embarrassment. There was nothing embarrassing about keeping a diary in Mikey’s opinion.

“Just… flip through it, okay?” Pete was bright red now, “then you’ll understand.”

Mikey flipped open to the first page and he realized… it wasn’t a diary.

It was a lyric book.

As Mikey flipped through more pages he realized they were all lyrics. At least 20 pages of however many songs. “They’re lyrics,” Mikey dropped the notebook in his lap, “Pete, I didn’t know you wrote lyrics.”

“Neither did I,” Pete frowned. He bit his lip and looked like he wanted to say something so Mikey stayed quiet, “I… they’re—the lyrics, have you looked at them?”

Mikey flipped to a random page and smoothed it out it with his fingers and scanned the lyrics. “They’re love songs.” Mikey felt the slightest bit jealous at whoever this person Pete was writing about—if there was one.

“But _really_ look at them,” Pete urged nervously.

“I don’t get what you mean,” Mikey cocked his head to the side.

“They’re about _you_ , Mikey,” Pete blurted out, fiddling nervously with his shirt, wrinkling it up.

The silence between the two of them was deafening. It was like there wasn’t even a party upstairs and Gabe wasn’t laughing drunkenly with his guests.

Mikey was in shock. Pete’s lyrics were beautifully written and they were about… _him_. Pete wrote _love_ songs about _him_.

Pete reached over and flipped the page over. “Here, read ‘XO’, it’s about when we first met.”

Mikey nodded, looking down at the notebook while Pete traced his writing with his fingers.

“‘I comb the crowd and pick you out. My mouth moves too fast for you to figure it out’,” Pete recited, “it’s about, uh, when I saw you at that first party.”

“You liked me since then?” Mikey asked softly, “from the beginning?”

“From the beginning,” Pete repeated.

Just as Pete opened his mouth to explain himself, Mikey leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss, reaching his hand out to cup Pete’s jaw. He pulled away and set the notebook on the floor. “Pete, you good?”

“You’re—?”

“Yeah,” Mikey breathed, grinning.  He pressed his lips against Pete’s again, shoving his hand into Pete’s soft hair, forcing a groan out of him.

“Oh my God,” Pete mumbled wetly against Mikey’s mouth, “you have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this.”

Mikey kissed him once more before pulling away to raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean by _this_?”

Pete turned pink. “Our first kiss. Nothing else.”

“If you say you haven’t imagined things more than our first kiss, then I know you’d be lying.”

Pete’s mouth hung open. “I—”

Mikey shut him up with another kiss, using his hands to push Pete down on to the couch cushions. He separated their lips with a wet smack and crawled over Pete. “You know how you said you’d be embarrassed about your notebook?”

Pete nodded reaching out to thread his fingers through Mikey’s hair.

Mikey leaned down and brought his lips close to Pete’s ear. “It wasn’t embarrassing, it was hot. God, it was really fucking hot.” No one had ever done anything that romantic to him let alone write several songs about him. He was so overwhelmed with _lust_ and _emotion_ and he just wanted to—

Pete shivered, his hand tight in Mikey’s hair. “Fuck, Mikey.”

Mikey propped his right arm on the couch and used his left hand to drag his hand down Pete’s chest and down to cup his dick through his jeans.

Pete’s breaths became shaky and he let out a groan as Mikey dug the heel of his palm into his crotch. He pulled hard on Mikey’s hair causing Mikey to hiss in pain.

“Fuck,” Pete said between breaths, “I’m sorry.”

“s fine,” Mikey’s hand went to Pete’s zipper and he bit his lip yanking his jeans down, “fuck, why are your jeans so tight?”

“I, uh,” Pete’s eyelashes fluttered each time Mikey’s hand brushed over his hard cock, “you know…”

Mikey laughed at Pete’s inability to form complete sentences. He was pretty much a mess in Mikey’s hands. “I never knew you’d be such—”

“A bottom?” Pete finished for him, completely serious.

Mikey rolled his eyes and reached into Pete’s boxers, beginning to stroke Pete’s dick, rubbing his thumb over the head. Pete threw his head back and moaned, arching his back.

“Have you,” Pete stuttered, “done this before?”

Mikey smirked. “I may have.”

Mikey’s hand was still on Pete’s dick, jerking him off slowly while he leaned down and started lick Pete’s neck before biting down onto the flesh. He licked and bit Pete’s neck and he knew for sure it would leave a mark the next day.

Mikey discovered that Pete was more noisy than he would’ve expected. He was sure as hell louder than he would’ve thought, too. Every time Mikey stroked a sensitive spot, Pete would curse and pull Mikey closer.

“Fuck, Mikey, I’m gonna—” Pete shivered as he came all over Mikey’s hand. Mikey wiped his hand on the back of his jeans and Pete immediately thought:  _gross._

“That was… _woah_ ,” Mikey was grinning, eyes wide.

“You gave me a handjob,” Pete observed, “in Gabe Saporta’s basement.”

Mikey couldn’t help but laugh. He pressed a kiss to the side of Pete’s mouth. “What are we?”

Pete snorted. He pulled his boxers up and zipped up his jeans. “Boyfriends, I hope.”

“Boyfriends it is.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
